


Unofficial Channels

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-15
Updated: 2000-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Skinner and Mr. X in the elevator in Mulder's apartment building.





	Unofficial Channels

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Unofficial Channels by Louise Wu

Title: Unofficial Channels (missing scene from End Game)  
Author: Louise Wu ()  
Pairing: Skinner/Mr. X (may appeal to Mulder/Skinner fans)  
Rating: NC-17 for male/male sex  
Spoilers: End Game (Season 2)  
Summary: Skinner and Mr. X in the elevator in Mulder's apartment building.  
Warning: This unique interpretation of Skinner's character may intrigue or irritate you.  
Beta Thanks: Loren Q, Anika, Ness, Alex, Joy  
Disclaimer: Skinner, Scully, Mulder and Mr. X belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. Much of the dialogue is taken from the episode written by Frank Spotnitz. No infringement of rights is intended.

* * *

Assistant Director Walter Skinner's Office  
FBI Headquarters  
Washington, D.C.

"Sir?" Scully's voice. "I'm sorry to come unannounced, sir, but your assistant wasn't at her desk."

"What is it, Scully?"

"May we speak off the record, sir?"

Fuck. Not again. "About?"

"Agent Mulder."

Of course. I close the door, lamenting my certain knowledge that this does *not* ensure our privacy.

"He's gone."

"Where?"

"I don't know. I was hoping that you could tell me or help me to find out."

"When I spoke to Agent Mulder the day before yesterday, he said he was going to take some time off after what he'd been through."

"He told me the same thing, but I don't think this matter with his sister is settled." I can hear near panic in her shaky breathing. Mulder must be in serious trouble. "Sir, is there any way that you can reach him through unofficial channels?"

Dammit. The conversations those two try to launch in my probably bugged office! I have to brush her off. "I can't help you, Scully."

"Please?" Dana Scully is not the sort of woman who begs. Her tone is so sharp that it's difficult to blow her off.

"Agent Scully, you and I both have a greater responsibility to consider and that is to the F.B.I. Agent Mulder's actions in this case are in violation of his duties, his oath of trust and Bureau protocol. He's risked my position, your life..."

"Agent Mulder has saved my life!"

"If he wanted or expected you to do the same, he would have told you where he was going." I return to my desk. In case she didn't grasp that the meeting was over, I offer a terse, "Please close the door on your way out, Agent Scully."

My jaw is clenched. My head starts to throb even before I hear her shut the door. I slam my pen onto the desk. Dammit, Mulder! What have you gotten into now?

The man is infuriating. After each aggravating Mulder situation I tell myself that I will endure no more. But like a brilliant artist, he continues to be worth the frustration. My respect for him always wins out. If I'm honest with myself, it's more than that. I genuinely like the neurotic little bastard.

Mulder's Apartment Building  
Alexandria, Virginia

I need to talk to Scully and I know that I'll find her here.

There is an 'x' taped on Mulder's window, with a light shining behind it. Scully has attempted contact with Mulder's informant, an action that is dangerous for her, as well as for the man Mulder calls Mr. X.

In the building lobby, I push the call button. The panel overhead tells me the elevator is paused on the fourth floor. Then the numbers begin to drop as the elevator groans its descent. I anticipate Scully, but the door opens revealing a handsome and well-dressed black man.

The tension in his eyes and shoulders give him away. Mulder's informant.

"Excuse me," he says in a scratchy voice.

I'm blocking his path intentionally. "Did you tell her what she needed to know?"

Mr. X's eyes narrow with suspicion. I see his hand shift to reach for a gun.

I grab him by his trench coat and slam him against the back wall of the elevator. X is a big man; the elevator paneling nearly collapses under his weight. "How hard do you want to make this?"

"No harder than it has to be." His cool retort tells me that he's a confident man. I'm close enough to sense his physical power. Simple intimidation won't produce the results I'm seeking.

As if to prove my point, Mr. X gives me an excruciating head butt. I'm seeing stars and a fist coming at me. A burst of pain in my jaw and I'm thrown backwards. He reaches for his gun, so I launch myself at him, shoving him into the wall. I connect solidly to his gut. Blood rushes in my veins with the pure pleasure of pounding another man's flesh. My own head butt leaves him reeling and I throw him to the floor. Before I can get a good grip on his lapels, his handgun is in my face.

Coffee-colored eyes burn into mine. "I've killed men for far less."

I'll bet you have, you son of a bitch. "You pull that trigger, you'll be killing two men. Now I want to know where Mulder is."

"You're in no position to negotiate, Mr. Skinner." He stretches and rises, carefully keeping the weapon pointed at me. "I have the information you want and the gun."

I examine the man. He might be a few years younger than I am. His face shows intelligence, but it's a harsh face. If he kills me, he won't lose sleep over it tonight.

"So what'll it take to get you to tell me?"

I watch him suppress an odd little half smile. Those dark eyes glide down my body and back up again. Mulder's life is at risk and the fucker wants to get laid. That's low, but I can play.

I return the glance, eying his muscular body with appreciation. My cock, usually half-hard during a good fight, gives a twitch in response. I have just offered to whore myself for Agent Mulder.

X's eyebrow quirks.

"What'll it take?" I repeat.

"If I'm going to risk my life again, I want something in return."

"Name it."

"Your ass, Mr. Skinner."

It's shocking to hear it out loud. My eyes widen before I can regain control of my face.

For me, sex with men is rough and brief. Rutting. I take what I want and don 't bother with the niceties. The handsome and violent Mr. X promises to deliver just what I like, except, this time, I'll be on the bottom. No reason I can't enjoy that, too.

I tell myself that Mulder's going to owe me big time... but my dick is ready and willing. A curt nod is my assent.

Mr. X pushes the close door and emergency stop buttons. "Drop your pants, Mr. Skinner," he commands in a low voice.

Unaccustomed to taking orders of that kind, I hesitate despite my body's desire. I find myself fixating on X's mouth, framed by his neatly trimmed beard.

His lips move. "Well?"

Shrugging off my overcoat and suit coat, I reach for my trousers, which I open with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Without lube this is going to hurt.

The weight of the belt buckle drags my pants to my ankles. I pull down my briefs, exposing my butt to the cool air blowing from the vent overhead. Bracing myself on one forearm against the elevator wall, I keep my right hand free for my own cock.

As I part my thighs I wonder if I've done it as provocatively as other men have offered themselves to me. I struggle not to feel the submission inevitable in the act. I am a human animal who will enjoy this act. And I am not ashamed.

My body's tension settles in my shoulders. A trickle of blood slides down my face as I offer my ass to this dangerous stranger.

At the sound of a zipper, I prepare myself for painful penetration, but X surprises me. A warm hand slides under my shirttails finding my ass, kneading it briefly. Two black fingers appear before my face. I give them a cursory licking. He tastes clean with a hint of sweat. His hand withdrawn, X slides one thick finger inside me, followed quickly by another, opening me up impatiently.

I struggle to make my ass relax around the probing digits. I don't do this often enough to be practiced at it. I'm tempted to twist my neck to check out his equipment, but remind myself that I might be more relaxed if I don' t.

The fingers are suddenly withdrawn. I hear him spit and then his moist cock head finds my anus. He grips my hips with his hands, holding tight enough to bruise. I hear a hitch in his breath as he pushes his dick inside me. The initial burn is quite painful, but the glide of his thick cock as it fills me is raw pleasure.

I wrap my fingers around my erection and begin to stroke. Rarely the bottom myself, I've forgotten how fucking good it can feel to have a hard cock sliding across my prostate. There is a little pain, but I can't bring myself to care.

His balls slap mine and then he pulls back with a grunt and begins to thrust into me. As I anticipated, he gives it to me hard, not overly concerned about my comfort. That's just how I want it. I jerk myself off with the same rough treatment. Both my cock and my ass are throbbing with appreciation.

His chin comes to rest on my shoulder. I enjoy the harsh sounds of his breathing as they record his loss of control.

Sweat stings my bloody face. The cock inside me feels smoother with each thrust. The pain of penetration is subsumed by the pure pleasure of being impaled on that hot, demanding dick.

"Enjoying yourself, Skinner?" he rasps arrogantly into my ear.

"Fuck, yes," I reply as I struggle to delay my own climax.

His thrusts begin to get clumsy. One of his arms slides up my chest and presses our bodies tightly together. A groan begins deep in his torso and rises to a painful volume. X's hips jerk as he shoots his release into me. With a final growl of satisfaction, his heavy body slumps into mine and he falls silent.

I pump my cock furiously. My own orgasm explodes just as his softening cock slides out of me. The quaking of my shoulders shakes off the body on top of me. My semen stains the elevator wall. Crouched on the wall, I allow myself a moment to recover my breath.

I pull on my underwear and pants. Fastening the belt, I retrieve my coats from the floor and turn to face him.

Fully dressed, X stands across from me, offering me a smug glare.

I glare right back at the man, waiting for the answers I've just sold myself to obtain.

I don't expect his next move. He grabs me by my shirtfront and shoves me hard into the elevator siding. He presses his muscular body into mine, chest to chest. His lips come so close that I can taste his hot breath. Just when I think the bastard will kiss me he whispers into my ear.

When he has given me the information we need to locate Mulder, he backs away and presses buttons on the elevator panel.

His eyes meet mine again. He clears his throat and emits a muffled chuckle before he exits the elevator.

I jab the button for the fourth floor. After the door closes, I sigh and slump back against the elevator wall. What's done is done. No need to revisit what happened here tonight.

I straighten my shoulders, briefly contemplating my state. After fighting and fucking I probably look like hell, but my body feels invigorated.

Scully is obviously shocked by my appearance as she greets me at Mulder's door.

"Agent Mulder took a commercial flight to Tacoma, Washington. From there, he caught a military plane to Deadhorse, Alaska."

She steps aside as I enter. I am Assistant Director Skinner again.

"He used his F.B.I. credentials to charter a Rollagon all-terrain vehicle." I locate a table. "It's still a ten-mile hike across the ice." I write down the coordinates X gave me. "These are the coordinates of his final destination."

I hand her the paper.

"How did you get this?"

"Unofficial channels," I reply, holding back a smirk.

It's tempting to think that Mulder now owes me what I have just given Mr. X.

END  
3/27/00  
Feedback, please:   
With only about six people interested in this pairing, I *need* to hear from those of you who actually read this darned thing. Even (flame-free) criticism is welcome.


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